


Waiting For You

by sherdocnatural



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Immortality, Kidnapping, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prison, Time Travel, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5148929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherdocnatural/pseuds/sherdocnatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I tripped in my attempt to run faster, bounced off of someone, and then the ground was rushing up to meet me. The stranger caught me by my forearms, saving my face from a painful case of road rash.</p><p>"Sorry!" I panted, "Thank you!"</p><p>"No," the stranger, a dark haired woman, said, "Thank you."</p><p>A bag was thrown over my head, the opening pulling against my neck from behind, choking me. I fought back, swinging my fists wildly, but all I hit was air.<br/>________________<br/>Inspired by this prompt I found on Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/345510602640334703/<br/>Enjoy <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting For You

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by my friend Baeleigh! (who for some reason I can't link)

_Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit._

 

I ran as fast as I could in mismatched heels, terrified at the prospect of being late.

_Again_.

I missed my bus, spilled my coffee all over myself, and probably twisted my left ankle. I really didn't need a firing on top of it.

I glanced at my watch. Eight forty eight. God I'm so late.

Wait. Is the second hand even moving?

No! _No_! My fucking watch broke! _Shit_!

I tripped in my attempt to run faster, bounced off of someone, and then the ground was rushing up to meet me. The stranger caught me by my forearms, saving my face from a painful case of road rash.

"Sorry!" I panted, "Thank you!"

"No," the stranger, a dark haired woman, said, "Thank _you_."

A bag was thrown over my head, the opening pulling against my neck from behind, choking me. I fought back, swinging my fists wildly, but all I hit was air.

"Help..." I gasped, but it was too quiet for anyone on the busy street to hear, "H- Help... me..."

I lost consciousness.

 

My alarm went off, rousing me from a restless sleep. I flung my hand onto the snooze button, not bothering to open my eyes.

My fingers swung through the air, missing the side table by a mile. I opened my eyes, squinting in the light, searching for my alarm clock.

It wasn't there.

In fact, neither was my lamp.

Or the ugly floral wallpaper some idiot plastered on my apartment walls.

I was lying on a tiny bed that was little more than a cot in a small, gray, stone cell. There were no windows, and only one door, heavy, metal, and barred.

The alarm that woke me up was coming from outside the room, blaring obnoxiously.

It quit as I sat up, and the resulting silence was unsettling. I noticed my work clothes had been replaced with loose beige pants and a matching shirt. My feet were bare.

Creepy.

I got off the bed and walked across the cold concrete to the door, tentatively peeking through the bars. Outside my door was a hallway that stretched to the left and right. I couldn't see very far, so I didn't know how long it was, or what was down there, but there was a door directly across the hall from mine. It was labeled 'CELL 413: WARDLEY, CARCER'. The light was on.

"Hey!" I called out, "Yo! Wardley!"

"Fuck off!" he yelled back.

"No." I said, "C'mon, man! I need help!"

"We all need help, sweetheart." he said, his voice gravelly and annoyed, "Shut up about it."

"But I don't understand! Where am I?"

Wardley didn't answer.

I tried to shake the bars of my cell door, but they barely shifted.

I tried harder.

Nothing.

I growled in frustration.

"Someone let me outta here!" I screamed, "Let me the fuck out! Help! I don't belong here!"

"Shut up!" Wardley hissed, "You'll get them started."

"Get who started?"

" _Help! Help me_!" a voice called, sounding faint, as if they were far away.

" _Help! Let me of here you animals_!" another voice screamed, sounding desperate and angry.

" _I don't belong here_!"

More voices joined in.

" _Let me go_!"

" _Help! I'm not supposed to be here_!"

" _Let me go! Bastards, LET ME GO_!"

The voices started overlapping, echoing, growing steadily louder until I could feel my eardrums throbbing.

" _SICK! YOU SICK MOTHERFUCKERS_!"

" _LIARS! ALL OF YOU! I DON'T BELONG HERE!_ "

" _LET ME OUT! HELP_!"

" _WHY AM I IN HERE YOU GODDAMNED SICKOS! LET ME OUT_!"

On and on it went, louder and louder and louder until my head was pounding with the din.

I stumbled back to my bed and curled into a ball, my hands pressed tight against my ears, trying vainly to stifle the cacophony.

It felt like hours before they finally calmed down, and then it was only because the alarm had started going again.

I didn't understand the significance of the alarms. They didn't seem to do anything, like they were noise for noises sake. I was grateful anyway.

"Sorry." I muttered to Wardley.

He didn't answer.

I stretched out on my bed and stared up at the ceiling. It was as gray as the rest of my cell.

Cell. I was in a cell.

I was kidnapped, bag over my head and everything. I was kidnapped and brought here.

Here to this... this _prison_.

"Why?" I asked Wardley, my voice pitifully small.

There was a long silence.

"Why what?" he finally replied.

"Why am I here?"

"Go to sleep, Lavon." he said gruffly.

I laid quietly for a while, too worried to relax. But then exhaustion hit me like a brick, and I fell asleep.

 

My stomach growled angrily, waking me up. I rubbed my eyes and blearily opened them. I shut them again.

Shit. It wasn't a dream. _Shit_.

My stomach complained again.

"Alright, alright," I muttered, "Let me see what I can do."

My light turned on as I got out of bed and walked over to my door.

Motion detection. Nice.

Wardley's light was off, so I assumed he was still asleep. And I sure as hell wasn't going to wake him.

"Okay," I muttered, turning back around and taking in my room, "If I can't ask for help, then I'll have to help myself."

Problem was, there wasn't much to help myself _with_.

The only furniture in the tiny cell was the bed and a toilet, and neither were exactly nutritious. The walls were made of gray stone, and the floor and ceiling were concrete. No hidden secrets there.

I looked under the bed, but nothing was there either.

I flopped on my back on top of the bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking.

I had already exhausted my options. What now?

The alarm started blaring again, and Wardley's light came on.

I got back up and went to my door, eager for information.

"Hey!" I called over the alarm, "Wardley! G'morning!"

If he answered, it wasn't loud enough for me to hear. Or maybe he just didn't hear me.

I impatiently waited for the alarm to shut up. After another minute, it did.

"Good morning, Wardley!" I repeated, "How're you today?"

Grunt.

"Good, good, I'm glad to hear it." I said sarcastically, "I'm doing well too, thanks for asking."

Grunt.

"Right. So, I was just wondering when I'll get to eat?"

A pause, as if he was deciding whether he should tell me how to survive or not.

"There's a door in the wall." he finally said, "There's food in it when the alarm goes off."

I glanced behind myself, double-checking, but no doors had appeared.

"What door?" I asked, "Hell, which wall?"

A heavily exasperated sigh came from his cell.

"The far wall." he explained, sounding immensely put upon, "If you _actually look_ , you'll see hinges set in the stone. There's a pressure plate somewhere around them that'll open the door."

I went to look and, to my sheepish surprise, found exactly what he said exactly _where_ he said. The hinges practically jutted from the wall, for God's sake. Some secret seeker I am.

Anyway, it took a little poking around but I finally managed to press the right spot and, lo and behold, a little door swung open, revealing a bowl of oatmeal and a few pieces of bacon.

The oatmeal was bland, and kinda clumpy, but the bacon was alright. I was still hungry when I finished, but it was much more tolerable now.

I didn't know what to do with my dishes, so I just put them back behind the door, deciding that was good enough.

With nothing at hand to preoccupy myself with, I laid on the bed and started thinking.

I was in prison. I had been kidnapped, and put in a cell in a prison. Or something to that effect. It might not be a prison, _exactly_ , but it fits the notion well enough.

I didn't know where I was, or why I was there, or who took me there, or any of that. But the real mystery was why I hadn't panicked yet.

That was the part that worried me.

I was shockingly cool with everything that had happened so far. The bagging, the getting choked til I was unconscious, the prison cell, _everything_.

And _that_ was truly terrifying.

_Why am I okay with all of this?_ None of it's normal. None of it's familiar. None of it is at all regular.

Am I just in shock? Have I just not processed what's happening yet? Am I going to completely flip out later?

"Quiet!" Wardley snapped from across the hall.

I sat up, irritated and confused.

"I didn't say anything!" I protested.

"I can hear you from over here." he grumbled, "You're giving me a headache."

"Well what am I supposed to do? It's not like I have _anything but my thoughts_."

"Just shut up."

"I had been!"

He didn't answer.

I flopped back on my bed, giving a huff of frustration.

"Why am I here, anyway?" I asked a minute later.

"Wardley," I prompted when I didn't get a response, "Why am I here?"

Silence from the other cell.

"For a reason." he finally answered, as I opened my mouth to ask again.

"What?"

"You're here for a reason." he repeated.

"What reason?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"Thanks for the information." I muttered, falling back into my bed.

"You're welcome." he grumbled back.

I laid there for a moment but I quickly grew bored of my own thoughts, as they consisted of the same topics I'd already exhausted. I got back out of bed and searched the cell, scrutinizing every corner and detail, looking for something, _anything_ , any tiny weakness in the walls that would help me escape.

Not that I had a plan for afterwards.

After an hour (-ish, I think. There were no clocks), I was nearing defeat. There's only so many times you can go over the same 6x9 feet of space before becoming discouraged.

I was laying half under the bed, prodding the back corner for secrets yet again, when someone yanked on my ankles. I yelped as I was pulled out from under the bed and brought roughly to my feet. I saw a flash of a dark uniform and realized I was being manhandled by a couple of guards.

Fear rose like bile in the back of my throat, and I fought at the restraining hands that were dragging me from my cell. What happened? What did I do wrong?!

"Help!" I cried, kicking and clawing and fighting as hard as I could, adrenaline racing through my veins, "HELP!"

"Shut her up!" one of the guards hissed. Something sharp pricked my neck, and the world went black.

 

My eyes slowly opened. I blinked lazily, lifting my heavy head to look around myself. I blinked harder, willing my eyes to clear. The room slid into focus, proving to be an office of some kind. There was a desk in front of me, the surface covered with papers and files that I was too far away to read. The walls were an ugly shade of brown, decorated with framed pictures of ferns.

I didn't understand.

I tried to lift a hand to rub my eyes, but my hands were tied to the arms of the chair I was in. I fought briefly, but a door opened before I got anywhere. A blond man walked in and sat casually on the desk, resting his clasped hands on his dangling knee, and regarding me with a look of something I couldn't identify, but didn't like.

"Hi, Desiree." he greeted, friendly.

I narrowed my eyes a little, "Hi..."

"How are you doing today?"

"... Fine."

"Good, good." he smiled, but it looked _slightly_ wrong, "You're probably wondering why you're here."

I was too unsettled to wonder, but I nodded anyway.

"I thought it was about time you were told." he started, keeping the friendly tone, "You really should've been brought here yesterday, but it was a bad time."

I wondered what he meant by that.

"Anyway," he continued, "You're here because someone has been waiting for you for a long, long time. And we happen to be in the business of keeping things found for the people who want them."

"... We?" I asked, my voice small.

"The man who wants you gave us simple instructions on what to do with you." he said, ignoring my question, "He said you were to be kept captive until he could reach you. Starting tomorrow, you'll be taken to the gym every day after lunch, where we will help you build your strength."

"I want to go home." I demanded, my voice far weaker than I wanted. I cleared my dry throat and tried again. "I want to go home! Let me go!"

The man's responding laugh was chilling, and I felt my racing heart skip a beat.

"He wanted me to tell you something," the man said, patting his pockets and sifting through the papers on the desk, "I have it written down somewhere... ah, here."

"He has served countless kings," he read out, "faked countless deaths, biding his time, waiting for you."

"I don't... I don't understand." I said, my voice wavering, my heart pounding against my rib cage.

"So, yes," he murmured, his eyes flicking between me and somewhere over my head, "That's why you're here. Make sure you eat enough. Any questions?"

My heart in my throat made it difficult to say anything.

"Good." he waved his hand, and something fell over my eyes and mouth, "We'll talk again soon, Desiree. Bye."

Someone untied me from the chair and forced me to my feet. I struggled against whatever was on my face, but I quickly gave up. It wasn't worth it.

I was practically carried back to my cell, and then unceremoniously dumped on the stone floor as one of the guards ripped the bag off of my head. The cell door clanged shut, I heard scraping metal, and then they were gone.

I slowly crawl onto my tiny prison cot and lay on my side, facing the wall.

It's finally sinking in that I've been kidnapped. That I'm here indefinitely. I'm not going home. Not for a while. Probably not ever.

It's not like I had much of a life. I had a job I hated, a cramped and cluttered apartment, no friends, and no family members who were alive and fond of me at the same time. No one will miss me.

Tears blur my vision and travel to the bed-sheet.

And what did that man mean by... any of what he said. Who's been waiting for me? What does he want with me? Why do I need to build my strength?

Nothing I could think of ended happily for me.

I close my eyes, cover my face with my hands, and sob.


End file.
